


The Christmas Goose

by Venstar



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - The Soulmate Goose of Enforcement, Geese, Goose-typical violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 19:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17086226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venstar/pseuds/Venstar
Summary: Bond's soulmate goose turns up during the most festive time of the year for normal people and the most depressing time for not so normal people.





	The Christmas Goose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roseforthethorns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseforthethorns/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Goose in the Study](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187129) by [KateKintail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail). 



> based on a fun prompt I found. "soulmate au where one person finds a goose who leads them to the other person. the difficulty comes in not being mauled by a goose"

It was Christmas time...again. The never-ending march to December 25th had begun. London’s shop filled streets were filled with dazzling displays of bright colored lights draped like netting above the crowds. Oxford street sported a neon blue light display proclaiming Christmas is calling, lit garlands were strung between the buildings and storefronts had been swapped out from cozy fall looks to festive Christmas themed displays. Punk Santas spread eagled filled one store window. Santa was definitely getting laid this season. Christmas was everywhere. 

Christmas, Christmas, Christmas. It also meant that couples were out shopping in the Christmas markets filling the streets to the brim. Bond could hardly pass through without seeing someone holding hands, however, he wasn’t busy trying to keep track of someone as he threaded his way through the busy streets. That thought cheered him up for a few seconds and warmed his cold little heart until he heard the sound of a goose. He glanced around quickly.

HONK!

A flutter of white wings flashed past him and a sparkling white goose with a bit of garland around it’s neck made a huge ruckus as it landed in front of some poor soul who was just getting off of one of the double-decker buses London was famous for. Bond held his breath, but the goose was determined to peck the living crap out of another poor soul until he moved in the direction the goose wanted, which was AWAY from Bond. 

Uh oh, here came another goose! This time, it had a jingle bell around it’s neck so not only was it flapping and pecking at the lady it was currently ushering along, it was jingling. Bond debated hanging around to see who the goose would lead it’s hapless victim to. There was the usual ritual of shock if they knew the person, surprise if they didn’t know the person and then they had to kiss, which was usually hysterical for both categories. He couldn’t imagine kissing someone he talked to every day. Wait, maybe he could. Well, following the kiss, was the most magical part, when the goose, having done it’s duty and seen to the soulmates matched up, would disappear in an explosion of feathers and gold dust. It was MOST satisfying.

Thank God none of these geese were for him. He raised his eyes to the sky and thanked whoever was there that after forty some odd years, he was still soulmateless. It’s not like he didn’t believe in soulmates, it’s just that his goose had never come, nor had a goose ever come dragging his soulmate along with him. He should be sad, most people would be but he wasn’t most people and he had a job that didn’t allow for him to think of anyone else, much less a soulmate, which was why he’d probably never received a goose...or a soulmate. He would never admit it, but just a teeny weeny bit of his heart and soul dropped into his shoes as the goose led the man away. Bond went home, to enjoy his time alone...or so he thought.

He should have known. He should have bloody known.

HONK!

“Shut up.”

HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

“I’ve fought legions of men barehanded, killed two people to earn my double-oh status, don’t think I won’t kill you and eat you for my Christmas dinner!” James Bond pointed his butter knife at the gorgeous white bird with bright orange feet and a bit of red tinsel wrapped around it’s neck. Humph, even the geese were decorated for the season. Well, it was perfect timing, being so close to Christmas, it would make a wonderful meal.

HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

“And get off the table!” James waved his butter knife, but the goose refused to yield. It hissed at him. “Absolutely not. You made the mistake of walking into the wrong kitchen, my friend. I actually know how to use an oven.” The goose hissed again and lowered it’s head in a snakelike manner. “Don’t push me.” 

HONK!

James continued to butter his toast, once the goose backed off. “I don’t have time for a soulmate. I don’t have the luxury of living long enough for a soulmate. It would be a bad idea, so off you pop.” He flicked his toast at the goose, but it wasn’t listening. Instead, it stole his toast, gobbled it down and then it just crapped all over his table. “For-”

HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK! 

The goose flapped it’s wings hard and lunged at Bond, who ducked the first attack. He stuck his butter knife up again. “I know what you want, now what do you want to do about it? Because I do NOT have to leave this flat if I don’t want to. We can stay here forever until I die of starvation or you do. Take your pick.”

The goose dropped to the floor in a mass of feathers and sharp pointy beak where it pecked the everliving crap out of his shins and feet. He was not wearing shoes, which was a huge mistake.  
“Ow! Ow! Ow dammit!” He tucked his feet up onto his chair and covered them with his hands, but that did not deter the damned goose. It pecked at his hands and shins and then flew up onto his lap, it’s wings flapping and flapping around his shoulders. “Alright! Alright!” The great James Bond had been laid low by a fourteen-pound bird. The goose hissed and then nipped his ear. “OW! DAMMIT!” He was now held, prisoner. The goose shook his earlobe and Bond imagined that it would tear it right off it’s base. Bond knew how this work, but damned if he wasn’t going to put up a fight. “Could it wait until later? After the New Year?” The goose let go of his ear and…

HONK!

He glared at the Christmas Goose. “I’ll find some way out of this.” He rubbed at his ear, pretty sure he looked more like a sullen child rather than an agent of death.

HONK! The goose looked more amused than angry. It turned and waddled to the front door and began to peck at it. Oh no. When Bond didn’t move fast enough, the goose charged back at him, running at full tilt, low to the ground, it’s wings flapping and it’s beak wide open as it hissed at him. Bond took off at a sprint across his living room as he was chased by the goose. By the time the goose had him right where it wanted him, the entire room was in shambles. Lamps knocked over, lampshades rolled around on the floor, torn in pieces. Books covered in goose shit littered the floor, his coffee table bore shit covered geese prints, white feathers covered every surface, it was a bloodbath. Bond was crouched in a corner, blood ran from a cut in his temple, his ear was torn, his lip was cut and his hands were bitten red by a toothless, gum-filled hard orange beak. He swiped a hand over his mouth. The goose was at his feet, hissing at him. It must have decided he had enough because it waddled away from him finally and went to the front door. Dammit.

“Let me get some shoes on and a jacket so at least I’m somewhat presentable you god damned menace.”

HONK!

The goose was impatient and it waddled away from the door and followed him from room to room as he tried to clean up his appearance. Whoever was his soulmate was going to have to deal with him in jeans and a leather jacket. He wasn’t about to waste one of his Tom Fords on a goose who had a habit of crapping all over the place. The goose waddled proudly down his block, Mrs. Volunante stared, her mouth open wide in surprise to see such a sight. 

“You?” She whispered. “You? Oh finally.”

Bond glared at her as she passed by, but the old snoopy snoot merely shrugged. “You’ve been needing a nice lass in your life. I hope she’s lovely and from a good family.”

Bond rolled his eyes as far as they could go and followed grouchily along behind the strutting bearer of his doom. He had no idea where they were going, the goose seemed content with waddling around the MOST populated areas as if he were showing off a prize. “Are we there yet?” Bond asked, miserably. The jacket he had chosen was not fit for such a cold night and he was beginning to shiver. 

HONK!

Bond sighed. “I don’t speak goose.”

Whether or not the goose took pity on him and felt it had gotten some of it’s own back, or they just happened to be that close to his soulmate, Bond wasn’t sure. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was the pity. An interesting street, filled with converted mews and private gates, all decorated for the season. Fairy lights, garlands, wreaths, it was all very festive and quiet, except for a dog barking incessantly from one of the homes. The goose honked back.

HONK! HONK! HONK!

“SShhh! This is a private street!” Bond tried to shush the loud goose, but to no avail, lights were coming on as people heard the ruckus. Curtains moved and homeowners peeped out, except for one home. The lights had already been on, but there was no movement at the windows and sure enough, the goose led him straight to that home. There was something odd about the decorations. The home was decked out with fairy lights, except they blinked in odd patterns and the wreath decorating the door, was a festive red and green, but it was all made from old machine parts. Cogs and bolts and such. Hmm, interesting. The goose presented itself at the door and honked.

HONK!

“Sssh, just knock!” Bond hissed at the goose. Thankfully the goose listened and began to peck at the door with it’s beak, making tiny little indentions in the wooden door. They had quite an audience, as people cracked their doors to witness the uniting of two soulmates. He could have sworn the woman across the way was wiping moisture from her eyes. He sighed and rolled his shoulders. Please be interesting, he thought. Please don’t be some vapid-

Slowly, the knob turned and the door opened…

“Q?”

A horribly familiar young man wearing nothing but cozy pajama pants and t-shirt stood in the doorway, a familiar white scrabble mug held in his hand, familiar plush lips were opened wide in surprise, familiar green eyes behind geek chic spectacles stared wide-eyed at him and a familiar head of dark hair was sticking up in all directions. Familiar, familiar, familiar. Oh shit.

“Doub-Bond? What are you doing here? Am I need-”

HONK!

The goose looked Q up and down and seemed satisfied. It nodded it’s head, stepped to the side and looked between the two of them. 

 

HONK! 

Q sucked in a breath and Bond felt for the young man. It was a shock to him too, to find a soulmate at this hour of the night and to have it be him. “You?”

“Me.”

HONK!

Well this was definitely unexpected, but not entirely unpleasant. “Um.” Bond said. he glanced around as Q was doing. The neighbors were enthralled with the scene playing out. Dammit. 

“We’re supposed to kiss,” Q whispered. He looked around, his fingers twitching nervously.

“I know that.” Bond hissed at him.

“If we don’t, the goose will never leave.” Q sounded as though he wanted to laugh. “Turing would eat him for dinner.”

“I already tried. It didn’t work.”

Q actually chuckled at that. “You couldn’t take out a goose?”

“No.” His answer came out sounding more sullen than he meant it to be. The goose hissed and Q laughed as Bond froze at the sound.

“The great James Bond, afraid of a goose.”

“You have no idea.” Bond stared down at the goose. “Are you sure?” He asked the question of the goose. Perhaps it was mistaken. Perhaps once it had seen them, it would decide that they weren’t soulmates. The goose stamped it’s feet and honked loudly. Well, there was nothing else to do, but step up and do the deed. “Are you sure?” This time he asked the question of Q. He held his breath as Q considered his question and quite possibly the answer.

“No.”

Well, that was disappointing, but not unexpected. “See?” Bond spoke to the goose and gestured at Q.

HONK! HONK! HONK!

Bond backed up, slowly. The goose was either going to have a conniption fit or it was about to attack him once more. “Q, a little help.”

“Are you sure?” Q asked, raising his voice over the din.

“What?” Bond whipped his head around.

“I keep odd hours, sometimes I don’t sleep for days, sometimes I set my kitchen on fire, I talk to myself when no one’s around, I make a mean spaghetti bolognese when I do cook, I have two cats and a mortgage. Do you think you’re ready for that sort of thing?” Q’s voice trailed off after rattling all the information off.

“I kill people for a living, I hog the bed covers, I like fine clothes, I have expensive tastes and sometimes I don’t bring back all my equipment in one piece,” Bond smiled and Q snorted at him.

“Well.” Q leaned against his doorframe. “If you ask me nicely, I might let you kiss me.” Q inhaled from the shock of Bond suddenly stepping up to him and wrapping his arms around him. 

Bond brought a hand up and cradled the back of Q’s head. The hair there, warm and soft against his fingers. They eyed each other warily. Bond moved in slowly and rather than kiss him, spoke softly into Q’s ear. “May I give you a kiss?” 

HONK!

“Sssh!” Q hushed the goose. “You’re ruining the moment.” Bond shook with laughter. He glanced down and the goose looked a bit chastised.

Honk.

Q turned back to Bond. “If it’s not a thimble, then yes, you may give me a kiss.”

Bond leaned in for the kill...or the kiss and was bombarded by a cacophony of noise.

HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK! HONK!

He and Q ducked as the goose exploded in that satisfying explosion of white feathers and gold dust that showered down upon them. It was kind of gross, thankfully there wasn’t any blood. Their audience clapped for them and Bond kicked a scrap of tinsel left behind to the side and allowed Q to pull him into his flat.


End file.
